


black night beauteous

by kingtear



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Pre-Slash, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingtear/pseuds/kingtear
Summary: “You again.” Geoffrey said without heat as Jonathan fell into step beside him, “Go skulk around elsewhere, would you?”*(Vampyr Discord Secret Santa 2020. For the prompts: "A leisure walk in the snow" + "Fighting ekons together")
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum & Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	black night beauteous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SDSlanderson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDSlanderson/gifts).



Winter had come to London. The West End was wreathed in snow and lights that sprang yellowed from branches and sparkled along rooftops. In the central plaza towered an evergreen fir, beneath which the Dawson foundation had established a charity drive for the children’s hospital, and piles of ribbon-wrapped gifts shimmered and winked at passersby. Even at night the streets were lit fully by the festivities of the season, though it was much too cold for London’s denizens to partake in midnight strolls. Mostly.

Jonathan walked toward the park at an amble, something he was getting better at. In the year since his unfortunate transformation, he had struggled to rid himself of a constant, hellish anxiety borne from the month of exhaustion and near death experiences, not to mention the Great War, and the habit of stalking or outright dashing everywhere. Every Tuesday in the hours between dusk and the beginning of his shift at Pembroke, he would visit the park to trace its cobblestone pathways. Sometimes it coincided with an investigation into a skal attack in the area, but for the most part it was a meditation.

And the company was rather nice.

“You again.” Geoffrey said without heat as Jonathan fell into step beside him, “Go skulk around elsewhere, would you?”

“Good evening to you too, Geoffrey,” said Jonathan courteously. “On patrol again?”

“You already know I am.”

“Simply a coincidence.” Jonathan hid a smile, and they paced together. 

He had first stumbled across Geoffrey months ago by accident and watched him from the shadows, still unsure of their tentative truce, as Geoffrey marched through the winding cobblestones of the park. It was an uncommon sight to behold: the rugged tempest of a man storming his way through autumn leaves and greenery like Hades in Persephones’ Garden. He wielded a strange, untouchable aura -- even to Jonathan, who knew he was very much fallible. When Geoffrey, cigarette dangling between his lips, paused to fish a lighter from his pockets, Jonathan appeared helplessly by his side with a lighter at the ready, flame to moth, moth to flame. “Was wondering when you’d reveal yourself,” Geoffrey had said, and leaned forward to light his smoke. “Stalking me now, eh doc?”

Jonathan had shaken his head and replied, “Simply a coincidence.”

He had lit his own cigarette and the ash burnt in the air between them into an unspoken agreement. Together, they had walked -- and for months more, Jonathan joined Geoffrey in his weekly West End patrols.

Tonight they left behind twin footprints in the snow-swept streets. Geoffrey’s breath came out in soft puffs beside him, and his cheeks were pink from the chill.

“Are you cold?” Jonathan inquired.

“No,” Geoffrey said. He unconsciously tightened his scarf before realizing the contradiction. He loosened it. “Bet this is perfect weather for your kind.”

“Not quite. All weather is equal now. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant,” Jonathan said, a touch mournfully.

Before they initiated this tentative friendship, Geoffrey might have replied with some barb about the consequences of monsterhood. Now, he made a sound that could pass for sympathetic and mused, “Must be rough. Not ever seeing the sun.”

“I do miss it. Its warmth. The color of daytime. The park was so lovely in the afternoon.”

“Honestly, I can’t remember the last time  _ I _ saw the sun. Properly, at least.”

Jonathan frowned. “That’s not healthy. The sun’s rays are a primary source of vitamins that are critical to your bodily functions. You should really endeavor for a less nocturnal lifestyle.”

“Sure, doc,” Geoffrey snorted, “and let you leeches amok at night to terrorize the good people of London?”

“Precisely. You’ve sniffed out my plot.” Jonathan allowed genuine concern to seep into his expression. “Really, though, the city would survive if you worked less hours. I’m always here to take care of things.”

“Nah. It’s not in my nature. ‘Sides, I can’t leave you alone. What if the helpless West End doctor were to get jumped by some vamps?” 

“Of course. Thank you for always looking out for my well being, Mr. McCullum.” It was a delight to hear Geoffrey acknowledge, even in a roundabout manner, that they were on the same side. Jonathan felt assured that the gift he brought would be well-received.

They climbed the steps that led to the highest point of the park where the newly renovated fountain flowed with crisp waters that twinkled with reflections of stars. The darkness seemed muted. When Jonathan looked to Geoffrey, he was struck by the calm on his features, the hard lines smoothed into delicate peace, his eyes hooded and placid. 

Jonathan had half a second to process the danger before blood erupted from the ground in furious spears. He tackled Geoffrey out of the way and turned them around mid-air so that he took the brunt of the fall. He whipped out his arm, erecting a shield just in time to block another flurry of spears, and curled his body protectively around Geoffrey. 

“Up, Geoffrey,” Jonathan barked, jostling him. “Snap out of it!”

The same dazed look clouded his face even when Jonathan raised his voice further. Seeing no other option, Jonathan looked deeply into his eyes and called upon his own mesmer. He heard his own voice ringing in Geoffrey’s mind, felt their thoughts touch and coalesce in swirling ink.  _ Wake _ .  _ Wake, and fight.  _ Death and blood, his own desire for it mingling with Geoffrey’s. To see their attackers torn asunder. 

The thrall cleared. Geoffrey sprung to his feet with his sword in hand almost quicker than Jonathan himself reacted.

“Did you just fuckin’ mind control me?” he said, outraged.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Jonathan explained, phasing away from a stab of blood, “I had to. You were under another’s control and I had to break it.”

“God fuckin’ damn it,” growled Geoffrey. He turned and fired his crossbow, striking a once-invisible ekon in the shoulder. 

The ekon shrieked and melted back into the shadows. Another two took his place -- the blood-wielding attackers shot tendrils toward Geoffrey, who ducked and weaved past the attacks, charging them with his sword. He speared one through the chest and flashed the cross at the other, forcing it to cringe and retreat from its light.

“Well said,” Jonathan agreed, admiringly. Geoffrey was a sight to behold when he fought.

“Are you going to dawdle and stare all night, or help?” Geoffrey yelled.

“I already have,” said Jonathan. He raised his arm and with it rose the prone figure of the shadow ekon, enveloped in blistering darkness. Jonathan closed his fist, crushing, and the darkness flared in response. The ekon screamed as its body contorted in on itself, bones crunching together.

Jonathan let its mangled body collapse on the stone. He phased forward, the steel of his saw flashing, and decapitated the ekon that Geoffrey had speared on his sword.

Geoffrey scowled and drew his sword from the limp body. “That one was mine.”

“You were taking too long,” quipped Jonathan. The remaining ekon lurked in the nearby brush, apparent to Jonathan’s heightened senses. “Shall I find the last for you?”

“No need.” Geoffrey fired twice in quick succession at the ekon’s hiding place. An agonized cry revealed that the bolts had struck true. He stalked over and while it was stunned on the ground, drove a stake through its heart.

The park was a scene of carnage. Viscera streaked the fresh snow and turned the fountain’s crystal waters a murky crimson. The ekon’s head had rolled to the base of a bench, leaving behind a trail of red. So much for a peaceful stroll.

“That was strange,” Geoffrey remarked. 

“Indeed. Telling, however, that they weren’t skals.” Jonathan extracted a cloth from his pocket and wiped the blood from his hands, then the saw. He leaned over the corpse and examined the lapels of its suit, the fine stitching. “I suspect assassins sent from the Ascalon Club.”

“Too weak to be assassins.”

“New members, then. Sent to test their mettle.”

Geoffrey stepped over and inspected the corpse as well. “No. I’d say they were failed initiates. Discarded after Redgrave found them lacking. He sent them our way so we’d do his damn dirty work for him.”

“They’re recruiting, then.”

They looked at each other. Grim, anticipating. “They’re recruiting.”

Jonathan could feel his blood thrumming, and could hear Geoffrey’s heartbeat race, electric. Was it anxiety that made their hands tremble so? 

“Seems that our Tuesday strolls might be significantly less peaceful soon,” Jonathan remarked. Back to the tension of so many moons ago, the battle and flight and death. Back to constant fear. To thrill. He closed his eyes briefly, recollecting himself.

“I think you may be right.” Geoffrey sighed, though not with exhaustion. His pupils were dilated, and he still smelled of want like hunger. “I need a smoke.”

“Ah,” reminded of the gift, Jonathan rifled through his pockets and pulled out a small, neatly-wrapped box, “for you. I had almost forgotten.”

“Oh.” Geoffrey accepted it awkwardly, fumbling with the wrapping like he hadn’t received a gift in ages. Maybe he hadn’t. 

He peeled past the silver and red paper. In his hands he clutched a polished silver cigarette case with the Priwen emblem inlaid in gold. It was an extraordinarily decadent and unnecessary and  _ obvious  _ gift. Jonathan smiled when Geoffrey turned to him, clearly astonished and perhaps a tad offended by the gesture.

“Shall we have that smoke, then?” Jonathan said, clearing the tension.

Geoffrey stared at him a moment longer. Then, he huffed and flipped open the case, plucking two cigarettes between his fingers. “Sure.”

He put one in his mouth and held the other to Jonathan’s lips. Jonathan pursed his lips and leaned in as Geoffrey lit it. The orange fire pulsed between them and the night shuddered. It felt very much like the first time they had smoked together. 

“To many more nights like these,” said Jonathan, quietly.

Geoffrey exhaled and the smoke tangled with the white warmth of his breath. He ventured, “Nights together.”

Around them the snow wept with blood and the waters darkened to reflect the black and sparkling night. The two of them stood close and allowed themselves to be swallowed by it all.


End file.
